All Chapters of The prison where I found you: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The heavy iron gates of Sector 2 slammed shut with a deafening, metallic thunder that echoed through the concrete corridors. Lockdown. Guards in heavy protective gear scoured the cell blocks, barking orders, slamming batons against cell doors, and dragging prisoners out for forced searches. The acrid smell of tear gas still hung in the humid air, burning my throat with every breath. In our cell, Kael paced like a caged predator. His broad shoulders were tense, his stormy gray eyes dark with blind, dangerous rage. His chest rose and fell heavily and unevenly. He hadn't lost a fight, but he'd been outmaneuvered right in his own yard. Someone had used Captain Miller, instigated a riot, and extracted a prisoner under cover of smoke—all right in front of the Reaper. I sat on the edge of the narrow cot, clutching his bandaged arm, watching him pace. The throbbing in my forearm was a dull ache compared to the chaos in my head. "Who's missing?" I asked quietly, my voice cutting through

The heavy iron door of the holding cell slammed shut, the deadbolts sliding into place with a sound like a gun cocking. Through the thick reinforced glass, I watched as four riot guards pressed Kael against the corridor wall, slapping heavy leg irons onto his ankles. Captain Miller stood back, his arms crossed over his chest, a tight, triumphant smirk cut across his face. Graves stood right beside him, holding Kael’s confiscated keys with sickening satisfaction. “You’re done running this block, Vance,” Miller yelled over the blaring static of his radio. “Two dead bodies in the sub-basement, a riot on the yard, and a missing inmate. You’re being transferred to Solitary Wing C until the state investigators arrive.” Kael didn't fight back. He didn't roar, and he didn't struggle against the chains biting into his wrists. He simply turned his head, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine through the small glass window. There was no fear in his gaze—only a dark, fierce warning to stay down

I kept the brass key, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, hidden deep in the hollow of my mattress. I told no one. Not the laundry workers, not Vance's men, and certainly not Kael when two guards finally brought him back to Sector 2 forty-eight hours later.Kael entered the cell, visibly shaken—dark circles under his stormy gray eyes, a split lip from his time in Solitary Confinement C—but his gaze met mine the moment the iron door closed."You're alive," he growled in a raspy voice."Barely," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. I leaned forward and spoke softly. "I came to Wing D while you were unconscious. They falsify patient records. They invent phantom injuries using the code '402-904-772' to siphon off funds."Kael's eyes narrowed instantly. He wasn't focused on the financial fraud. He was staring at me. He moved closer, his heavy shadow falling into my lap, his jaw clenching as he studied my face with chilling precision."How did you get so close to read the expense reports, Hart

My hands were slick, warm, and trembling violently. In the suffocating darkness of the sub-basement, I couldn't see the wound, but I could feel the arterial spray pulsing against my palms. It was rhythmic, terrifying, and rapidly growing weaker.“Noah! Breathe!” I choked out, pressing my weight against the jagged hole in his shoulder.“He’s dying, Kael!” I screamed, panic clawing at my throat. “I can’t stop the flow! I can’t”A heavy hand clamped over my wrist, pulling my focus toward the dim silhouette of Kael in the shadows. His flashlight was back on, balanced precariously on a pile of rubble, casting long, frantic shadows against the walls.For the first time since I’d met him, the Reaper wasn't cold. He wasn't calculating. His eyes were wide, darting between the spreading pool of crimson and my face, and his chest was heaving with a raw, visceral terror I had never seen on him before. He wasn't afraid of dying he was afraid of losing the only piece of the truth we had left.“He’s

We tore through the abandoned corridors, our lungs burning, retracing the path we’d taken into Old Wing E. The “escape” was a lie—a bureaucratic smokescreen meant to justify liquidating a witness. They hadn’t let Noah run; they had dragged him back to the very place I had just infiltrated.We found him in the heart of Wing D, in a high-security isolation room that didn't exist on the standard blueprints.The heavy steel door stood ajar. Inside, the scene was a slaughterhouse of intent. The metal restraints were snapped clean off the cot, dangling like broken shackles. A dark, jagged pool of blood soaked the mattress, and on the pristine white-painted wall, a message had been scrawled in thick, black permanent marker: STOP LOOKING.Kael let out a sound of pure, feral rage—a low, guttural growl that vibrated in the small room. He slammed his fist into the wall, the force enough to crack the plaster, his eyes wild and fixated on the door, ready to hunt down every guard in the sector unti